


Let This Fool Rush In

by trash_heap



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Supportive Connor, ace hank, ace!hank, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_heap/pseuds/trash_heap
Summary: Connor is eager to progress their relationship; Hank is reluctant to take the next step.





	Let This Fool Rush In

**Author's Note:**

> No one writes asexual Hank, so I have to feed myself.

At first, Hank’s excuse is: “I’m an old man, Con. Can’t always get it up like I used to.” Connor tries to help, working to ease Hank into a better diet and a healthier lifestyle, easing off the Black Lamb. It’s slow going but Hank begins to feel better, physically. He feels a little less like a shadow of his younger self and more like a real person. That much he can’t complain about. Even if he could, Connor’s soft smile and bright eyes as he informs Hank of his improving health keeps him from complaining. 

But with the return of his good health goes the last of his good excuses to not have sex. Hank feels dread sinking into his gut the first time he wakes up with morning wood. He’s always hated it, hated that his body would betray him like that. Connor is making some kind of pancake in the kitchen, so he slinks off to the bathroom to take a cold shower. He feels part of his anxiety calm as his erection flags under the freezing stream. 

When Hank finally shuffles into the kitchen, he pulls Connor close to his chest from behind while he works on breakfast. Connor smiles at the whiskery kiss Hank leaves on his cheek. As Hank pulls away to sit down, he catches the slight frown and the flash of yellow in his LED. Hank feels his face burn; Connor noticed the lack of erection. Connor never says anything to him about it, but Hank can feel his heart sinking to the floor. 

Hank’s excuses become more and more flimsy as the weeks go on, and Connor seems worried. They’ve progressed past chaste kisses into full on make outs. Hank hadn’t been able to kiss someone, just kiss, since high school. It made his heart soar to have that with Connor. Connor’s been getting more and more bold, lately. Hank’s heart speeds up when he kisses him, but now it’s halfway with dread. His thoughts follow the same patterns over and over in a loop he can’t escape.

_ A strapping young man like Connor can’t be expected to slum it with an old man who won’t fuck him like he deserves, _ Hank thinks. He simultaneously tries to cling to Connor’s affection and distance himself as much as he can: it’s going to hurt when Connor inevitably leaves him for greener pastures. 

Everything comes to a head one night when Connor clambers into his lap, rolling his hips, kissing him deep and slow, sweet little noises coming from the space between their mouths. Hank rests a warm hand on Connor’s back, just beneath his t-shirt, the other cradling his jaw. Hank’s caught up in all those soft sounds but goes absolutely still, ice running in his veins, when he feels a hand on his zipper.

“Hank?” Connor asks, pulling away with a frown. “Have I done something wrong?”

Hank backtracks quickly, “No, sweetheart! You’re perfect, so damn perfect.” He pecks a quick kiss to that frowning mouth and it smooths into a tentative smile. “Just an old man with hang ups.” 

It’s not quite a lie. He snags Connor by the back of the neck, pulling him in for another kiss. Connor melts into it, fingers burying themselves in Hank’s hair, momentarily distracted from their previous goal. Internally, Hank is panicking. This is it. If he turns Connor away now, he’s going to lose him. He steels himself. Surely he can get through it. For Connor. He deserves the world and Hank wants to  _ want _ to have sex with him. Those slender fingers tug his fly open, settling over his boxers with one teasing thumb rubbing a circle before it stops. Hank tries to keep the kiss going, throat closing up with the threat of tears as he feels Connor still at the realization that he’s still not hard.

“You’re soft. Do you - do you not want me? I thought -”

Hank leans his head back against the sofa, keeping his eyes squeezed shut. He swallows hard around the lump in his throat and forces himself to speak. Connor deserves an answer. 

“I meant it when I said you’re perfect, baby. You’re so good to me and you’re such a good man and I want to give you everything.” 

He pauses to figure out what to say and feels Connor run his thumbs under his eyes, collecting the tears he hadn’t realized were there. He chokes on a sob and forces himself to keep talking.

“But I can’t. It’s not my age, or my diet, or the booze, Con. It’s me. I’m - well, I’m asexual.” He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know Connor’s LED is blinking a furious yellow as he researches the term. One hand moves from holding his face to pressing gently over his heart. “I thought that, for you, I could give it a try. I thought I could do it for you. But I can’t and I know you want it, Connor. I’m so sorry.”

Hank feels Connor leaning in and he has a moment to be deeply grateful that Connor will give him a nice goodbye. One sweet kiss and a promise to be friends and he’ll be gone. He’ll find someone else, anyone else, to give him what he needs. Hank swallows down the sob and kisses him back. No one stays once they find out.

“Oh, Hank,” He says, and Hank braces himself for the killing blow. “That doesn’t matter.”

His heart stutters in his chest, eyes flying open as he jerks his head up in surprise to stare at Connor. He’s smiling at him and Hank blinks away residual tears to see it more clearly. Connor runs his fingers through Hank’s beard.

“I’d be happy just being by your side. Being with you just like this, being your partner, means more to me than anything. I don’t need sex to make me happy, Hank. I just need you.”

Hank takes a moment while the words sink in and then he sobs, fresh tears spilling into Connor’s (Hank’s) shirt as he buries his face in his chest, squeezing him tight. Connor laughs, light and relieved, and kisses the top of his head, content to hold him until Hank can speak again. When his sniffles subside, he leans back. Bleary eyed, he takes in the man above him.

“I love you.” He says, simply. It’s the first time he’s dared to say the words aloud and the effect is instantaneous.

“Hank!” Connor yelps and leans in to kiss him hard. “I love you, too!” He leaves soft kisses all over Hank’s face until he starts to laugh and drags him back in to do it properly.


End file.
